Five Stages Of Grief
by Julia451
Summary: One-shot about that awesome cold opening to "99 Loses Control." When 99 tells him she's leaving CONTROL to marry Victor Royale, Max goes through all Five Stages Of Grief in two minutes.


_**Author's Note:**__ Agents 86 and 99 will always have a special place in my heart. They were the first fictional couple I ever watched and, thus, subconsciously set the bar for what I consider well-written romance. I've thought about writing something for them before but never acted on it until now. __So, here it is: my exploration of one of my all-time favorite moments between the first fictional lovers I ever met._

_(Quotes from the Season 3 episode "99 Loses Control" in quotes and italics)_

* * *

Maxwell Smart was no stranger to pain. Spy work wasn't exactly the softest job in the world – if you weren't jumping out of a speeding car or escaping an intricate death trap before you could be squashed, impaled, or drowned, you were dodging the fists of KAOS agents on one side and flying bullets on the other. Yet, nothing he'd ever experienced in all his years as a CONTROL field agent had been as painful as the blow 99 dealt him that evening:

"_I gave the Chief my official resignation this morning."_

At first, all he could do was stare dumbly at her, silent and paralyzed, feeling like she'd punched him hard in the gut, while his brain tried to process the words. Their implications slowly sank in: he was about to lose something he couldn't survive without. He couldn't have heard her right. She wouldn't really do that to him? But the more they talked, the more hope she killed.

The next two minutes were the hardest battle he ever fought:

_**Denial**_

"_But your future is right here at CONTROL..."_

It made no sense. He couldn't imagine her as anything but a spy – how could she? Everyone knew she was one of the best in the business. How could she give that up? This was her natural element. This was where she belonged. She couldn't let all that talent go to waste. She couldn't forget how good it felt, waking up every morning knowing the fate of the free world might rest in your hands, working to defend your country from its deadliest enemies. He knew she craved the thrill of the job, the rush, the excitement, the danger, just as much as he did. She couldn't walk away from all that. She just needed a break to rest, or she was bored and needed a change in routine, but she wouldn't really leave for good and forever. What could possibly make her want to do that?

She just _had_ to tell him...

"_I met this man..."_

_**Anger**_

"_He's all right, I guess, if you like fantastically handsome men."_

He couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice as he examined the picture, but he didn't care; it was all he could do to stop himself from throwing it against the wall. He fantasized crushing it in his bare hands and listening to the glass shatter, setting it on fire and watching it blacken and dissolve, giving the subject a nice black eye. He was really losing her, and it was all because of him! He was losing the best partner CONTROL had to offer so she could go party with some French yuppie! Who did this Victor Royale think he was?! No matter who he was or what he was like, he had no right to think he was good enough for her! He knew he wasn't good enough for her because no one was! How could she have fallen for him?! What made him so special? How many plots to take over the country had he foiled singlehandedly? How many KAOS agents had he brought in? How many disasters had he stopped? How many lives had he saved? This Royale couldn't know her very well, or he would never have the nerve to think he deserved a hero like her!

How well _did_ this Royale know her anyway? How long had she been going behind his back romancing some nobody? How close were they? How far had they gone... He turned his eyes away from the picture in his hand before the picture in his mind could take shape. Her leaving was bad enough, but the reason why... _that_ he couldn't bear.

_**Bargaining**_

"_I always thought there was somebody else..."_

It was a pathetic lie, but how else was he supposed to get her to admit this wasn't right? To make her realize that the idea of her running off with her charming French beau was ridiculous? It wasn't like he could say what his mind was screaming...

_Say you're looking for a better future, say you're leaving CONTROL, say you're moving to Saint Germain, say I'll never work with you again, say I'll never see you again, say you don't care if you never see me again, but please don't say you're leaving to be with someone else! Say anything, but don't say you're in love! Do whatever you want, but don't marry him! Please, anything but that!_

_**Depression**_

She showed him no mercy. She was leaving, she was getting married, and there was nothing he could say to change her mind. She was as good as lost already. He could feel the knowledge crushing him as he gave up fighting against it. He let the wave of sorrow and longing sweep over him without resistance. The assault broke down all his defenses, and he felt all of his grief and desire pouring into his eyes as he gazed at her. He had never allowed his face to reveal so much around her before, but it no longer mattered; with her gone, nothing could ever matter again. It was torture, but it might be the last chance he had, so he let himself gaze, openly and freely, with no mask to hide the pain in his eyes.

At the first sign of movement from her, he turned away before she could see it. He had no right to look at her that way. He ought to accept it and let it go.

The more he ordered himself to accept it, the more he knew he never would.


End file.
